


washing the floors as well

by keithsforeheadtattoo



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithsforeheadtattoo/pseuds/keithsforeheadtattoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i mean, this is your only chance to see, but all right," says rochelle, unfurrowing his brow into something pitiful. his eyes are still shut so ro lets herself grin, tongue between her teeth. "you could make yourself useful and tell me somethin' nice."</p>
            </blockquote>





	washing the floors as well

**Author's Note:**

> originally part of [trying to not get hard during the zombie apocalypse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5055394)

"aw, hell no!" she says when she first pulls it out of the pillowcase. it's a big joke because the bedroom looks like it was an old lady's, but really because they're all in chemical need to laugh at something. it's off-brand, which becomes funny too. do southern women have hitachis? rochelle wonders. can they get them? do they import them here?

four a.m. hits and she's wide awake and it's so not a joke anymore. her heart keeps pounding too fast to sleep so she's accidentally running out the clock before she has to tap in for a guard shift. she's always just ended a guard shift. the whole apartment block still has power. rochelle sighs. do off-brand hitachis have wall plugs?

she flips the light on and nick informs her by rote from his post that she still has forty-two minutes left and she "better use 'em".

rochelle reaches inside the pillowcase.

the plug is two-prong so it totally fits in the socket right next to the bed. she cycles through the speeds in the palm of her hand.

"oh, what the fuck..." nick says real low without a question mark.

she smiles. "i mean, i'm not gonna do it with my underwear off or anything." like that's what he'd meant. some biological concern. he makes a sound and she smiles bigger. some biological concern.

"i might even do it over the sheet." ro dangles a leg off the edge of the bed, watching. nick's pressed up against the door. guarding real real thoroughly. "if it's strong enough i could go over both blankets..." she flicks it onto its highest setting. "to make sure i don't make you uncomfortable."

"okay!" he practically hollers, after she draws out a minute of sounds that come from an authentic place but are more like based on a true story. 

"okay. thirty-seven minutes before we go back out there." he faces her, finally. 

rochelle smirks -- "what, are you timing me?"

none of the things he tries to say are words and they all end with him hugging the wall again, hawk-eyeing the door. her sounds are all real now and some of them are laughter. "hey, take your jacket off," she says, too, and not before she's done laughing. but he does. so then she wants the shirt sleeves rolled, up to the elbow, she specifies, and he says if you give a mouse a cookie.

"when did you ever read that book?" ro laughs and doesn't want the real answer, just wants him to take off his shirt before she comes thinking about a cartoon rodent. she waits to demand it until he starts to say, about the book. because he squirms for a long while first. and she gets to interrupt him after. and she's kind of fucking lost in all the faded ink across his forearms. his buttons take too long in fumbling hands. she smiles. his shirt is soaked through the back and under the arms and there is a roadmap of tattoos and body hair everywhere under it. 

"are you sweating?" she says just to be like that. of course it works. he closes his eyes like he got shot.

"i mean, this is your only chance to see, but all right," says rochelle, unfurrowing his brow into something pitiful. his eyes are still shut so ro lets herself grin, tongue between her teeth. "you could make yourself useful and tell me somethin' nice."

"you shoot like pavlichenko," nick offers immediately. 

it's not the compliment itself that startles her into orgasm, she's not even familiar with the reference. it's everything about how he says it, reverent and breathy and so fast he must have been sitting on that one for a while now. his tone is alien with deference. rochelle lets her mouth fall open watching beads of sweat at nick's hairline. he opens his eyes slow and she won't break his gaze to even blink until her muscles stop jumping.

she wraps the cord on her fingers, yanks the plug from the wall without moving anything but her wrist.

"goodnight, nicolas." she's laughing again, winking at eyelids that are already clamped shut.

**Author's Note:**

> "When he's finished giving himself a trim, he'll want a broom to sweep up. He'll start sweeping. He might get carried away and sweep every room in the house. He may even end up washing the floors as well!"
> 
> \- Laura Numeroff, _If You Give A Mouse A Cookie_  
> 


End file.
